<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>walk with me, though I'm slow by sayounarahitori</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28382160">walk with me, though I'm slow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayounarahitori/pseuds/sayounarahitori'>sayounarahitori</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Internalized Homophobia, Kid Fic, M/M, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:00:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28382160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayounarahitori/pseuds/sayounarahitori</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Living with Taeyong is easy in theory, harder in practice; but practice makes perfect, and Doyoung has always been a bit of a perfectionist. So he learns to compromise, and learns to share, and learns to tell Taeyong no when he needs his space, and helps Taeyong establish his own boundaries. There are times one of them sulks for days, times Taeyong’s self-negligence drives Doyoung up the wall, times Taeyong snaps at him for his overbearing nature, but also days and days where Doyoung knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is <i>it</i>.</p><p>And then Taeyong brings home a child.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>417</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>NCTV Secret Santa 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>walk with me, though I'm slow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefullergirl/gifts">thefullergirl</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi! happy holidays from your secret santa! this was a very new thing for me to write, so I hope it works for you, and that you don't mind what I did with your prompt :D thank you and enjoy!</p><p>title from without you. thanks to r. for all the support and help as always &lt;3 and big thank you to the NCTVSS mod for running this wonderful fest!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There is a little girl on their couch.</p><p>Doyoung stops a couple steps short of the doorframe and simply looks through — at Taeyong talking quietly but intensely to the young person. He’s sure they both have heard him wrestling with the key (he’s been urging Taeyong to change the lock for weeks now, to no avail), but for some reason, they’re all still pretending nothing is happening, suspended in this moment just on the edge of something new.</p><p>Slowly, so as not to frighten them, Doyoung toes off his shoes, puts his bag down and steps into the light.</p><p>Taeyong finally glances at him with eyes wide and defenseless, and then draws his gaze away and back towards the girl. She’s regarding Doyoung now with open curiosity and maybe animosity, too — Doyoung is not the best at reading people he doesn’t know well.</p><p>She can’t be more than five years old, he thinks. There, on their dingy yet comfy couch, she looks to him like the tiniest, most helpless creature in the world.</p><p>Perhaps that is why he opens himself to whatever is happening here.</p><p>He is tired, exhausted from the Chuseok visit to his family. Dreams of returning to Taeyong, to their quiet apartment, were, as always, his lifeline.</p><p>“Hi, Doyoungie,” Taeyong mumbles, swallowing, and Doyoung can’t quite bear the way Taeyong won’t meet his eyes. He sits down next to them, noting how the girl startles a little, and reaches out, squeezing Taeyong’s shoulder.</p><p>“Hi,” he says simply.</p><p>“This is Yelim,” Taeyong says, eyes cast downwards. “She’s gonna stay with… with me, now.”</p><p>Doyoung nods, even if Taeyong can’t see him.</p><p>Taeyong explains that Yelim has been passed around their relatives for a while, ever since his elder cousin succumbed to a long-lasting illness, each household pretty much worse than the previous one, until suddenly there were no feasible options left — just him.</p><p>He says it all quiet but steady, glancing periodically now at Yelim, now at Doyoung. The girl stays silent throughout the ordeal, but her hand is held tightly in Taeyong’s.</p><p>Doyoung supposes some other people would see a choice here, a road diverging, a decision he has to make. Maybe not everyone would come home to find out their friend and roommate will be fostering a kid, and be like, “Sure, where shall she sleep?” — maybe, maybe. Doyoung doesn’t like to ponder upon those things.</p><p>It’s not like he hasn’t known that where Taeyong is concerned, any common sense goes straight out of the window.</p><p> </p><p>They've been living together for a year now already, the cost of rent in Seoul only ever going higher. The decision came about without much fanfare — just that one evening, when Doyoung was picking him up from a late shift (if you could call it that, even, when all Doyoung did was sort of inconspicuously drop by the noraebang Taeyong was currently part-timing at because it gave him a chance to work with some audio equipment), Taeyong mentioned that he may have scraped up enough savings to afford a room instead of living with some supposedly kind relatives where he could barely leave his room without feeling their judgement.</p><p>"We could move in together," Doyoung blurted out and then gulped at his own bluntness. Surely, it’s a weird thing to suggest out of the blue, and Taeyong wouldn't just want to—</p><p>"Wait, are you serious?" Taeyong asked, incredulous, and then he was shaking Doyoung's shoulders and yelling excitedly, and the next month, they were arguing about where to keep snacks and whether it was worth it to invest into a vacuum cleaner now or wait and see. (There's been no question that they'd have a shared household — none whatsoever.)</p><p>Living with Taeyong is easy in theory, harder in practice; but practice makes perfect, and Doyoung has always been a bit of a perfectionist. So he learns to compromise, and learns to share, and learns to tell Taeyong no when he needs his space, and helps Taeyong establish his own boundaries. There are times one of them sulks for days, times Taeyong’s self-negligence drives Doyoung up the wall, times Taeyong snaps at him for his overbearing nature, but also days and days where Doyoung knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is <i>it</i>.</p><p>And then Taeyong brings home a child.</p><p>And since he’s known him for so long, Doyoung had been expecting some sort of change — — he could tell that something was bothering Taeyong, that he’d been fidgety in a way that usually meant he was trying to keep something secret. But Doyoung was ready to wait, ready to accept changes to their life, in whatever form they may come.</p><p>The thing is, he’s been expecting something like a dog.</p><p>(A cat, maybe. Or maybe — he didn't really like thinking about that possibility — Taeyong had finally gotten himself a partner.)</p><p> </p><p>"Is this a dealbreaker?" Taeyong asks, quietly. "I know we don't have much space, and— I mean, she's not a baby, she's six, but, I understand if… if you can't do this."</p><p>In Taeyong's eyes, Doyoung reads a silent plea, but he doesn't dignify it with an answer — just moves closer and reaches out to swallow him in an embrace.</p><p>"Of course it's okay," he whispers, all the worries momentarily drowned out by how warm the it feels.</p><p>Taeyong relaxes in his arms.</p><p>The kid looks at them in silent curiosity. Doyoung tries to give her a smile.</p><p> </p><p>Yelim doesn't like him, not at first. She’s also pretty quiet in general, so he’s not sure if it’s her shyness, her (probably) trauma, or if she truly has a low opinion of him as a person.</p><p>Maybe it's just the contrast. Next to Taeyong, who seems almost natural with the kid from the get-go (and yeah, it probably helps that he isn’t a stranger to her), Doyoung feels awkward, stiff like a log. He wishes there was some button to make the girl warm up to him instantly, or maybe to make him approachable, some magic trick that would endear her — he does try, really, but there’s only so much he can do, with his boring home job, boring tastes and admittedly boring life. He doesn’t know how kids work, hasn’t got a clue about what makes someone interesting for them.</p><p>And, well, he thinks, if I can’t make her like me, I’m going to do a damn good job of being a responsible... caretaker. Parent figure. Her weird non-uncle.</p><p>So that’s what he does: he makes her meals in the morning, and enforces a strict bedtime, and forces her to take baths regularly. He’s pretty sure that after couple months of this, she hates him even more than before, but it’s not like he’s losing anything, so he keeps at it.</p><p>Taeyong, in turn, gets to be the “fun” uncle. It seems that he has no problem finding things that Yelim enjoys, from cartoons to books to ridiculous games that he might just be coming up with on his own. He always lets her eat more sweets than kids should (according to Doyoung’s thorough research), and stay up watching TV past bedtime, and just shrugs when she refuses to go out in a “stupid prickly hat” in the middle of winter.</p><p>And it’s not like Doyoung doesn’t want to indulge her, or to make her happy, but — someone’s gotta make her wash her hands every time she comes back home, and if Taeyong can do the fun parts, then it’s left to Doyoung to do the boring ones.</p><p>Taeyong is quite amused by it all, even though he laments occasionally the fact that her and Doyoung just can’t get along. “She’s so fun,” he mentions, offhandedly. “Sometimes I think I should keep a notebook just with the things she says.”</p><p>Doyoung nods and feels stupid, failing; worse, even, he feels… jealous.</p><p>God. It’s entirely, completely ridiculous, to be jealous of a kid who has no one else to turn to, but Doyoung prefers to be honest with himself, and seeing Taeyong pour all his heart into Yelim's happiness, watching them grow into each other, learn and understand each other, he feels proud, sad and ashamed all at once.</p><p>Because Taeyong is amazing, and Doyoung feels so lucky to know him — but it feels that no matter how much he tries to help, he’s always, always coming up short.</p><p> </p><p>Aside from all the other inevitable changes to their lives, they have to move into one room — Doyoung insists that a kid this age needs privacy, and, well, Taeyong agrees.</p><p>It works out great, because Taeyong has a nice bed — not big, but quite perfect for Yelim. At the very least, she looks happy there, when Doyoung comes into her room in the morning. (Less happy when he rouses her, though, glaring at him with a look that could kill.)</p><p>And Doyoung has a big floor mattress. One that fits both of them.</p><p>Sure, he thinks, they could buy another mattress, but they don't really <i>need</i> one, not when this one is perfectly fine.</p><p>And if Doyoung's heart squeezes at the sight of Taeyong in the mornings — evenings — nights, — hair mussed up, snoring slightly, ethereal and also entirely human; and if their hands touch casually in a way that feels monumental as much as it is fletting, and if Taeyong cuddles up to him so easily in his sleep — then that's okay, too. Doyoung has long since gotten used to this.</p><p> </p><p>They first met in Japan, of all places.</p><p>It was chance, really — a lot of random happenstance. Taeyong revealed later that he didn't plan on staying there that long, but then he met some cool people and found a part-time job he liked, so he decided to just go for it. Doyoung almost went to study at another school that turned out to be involved in some scammy stuff, forcing him to frantically search for a language school in Tokyo that would accept late applications.</p><p>They weren't even in the same class.</p><p>Doyoung first saw him petting a cat on the porch of the school's main building — that one day he was finally early, and not barely on time.</p><p>Taeyong was dressed light — much too light, for February, just a light jacket over the t-shirt, — and had normal dark hair. He was crouched down, murmuring quietly to the old Maru-chan, and Doyoung barely spared him a second glance.</p><p>Well, maybe a second. But not more than that.</p><p>He saw him again in a week or so, roused by the thought that he had ran out of all snacks and would have to get something from the 7-11 before class.</p><p>Doyoung barely recognised the boy, what with his pastel pink hair and an entirely different outlook. But something — his voice, or more likely, the soft, yet deep tone of it — made him stay for a moment and linger in the early March sun.</p><p>He didn't approach him then, or the next day, or the next — even as, somehow, he settled into the routine of getting up and walking to the school at a leisure pace instead of his usual half-conscious sprint.</p><p>There was nothing special about the day he finally came closer to him, except that Taeyong somehow looked especially lovely, and sounded especially exasperated when giving the cat a talk she seemed happy to ignore.</p><p>"I don't think she speaks Korean," Doyoung commented, coming closer.</p><p>Taeyong jumped and then looked up, squinting against the sun.</p><p>"My bad," he said and grinned crooked before turning back to the cat, and then continued in soft Japanese, "Though you don't really care either way, do you, Maru-chan? Just want to be left alone, you silly grandma…"</p><p>Doyoung, despite only getting half of that, felt a pang of something at the scene.</p><p>The next time they ran into each other at Donki, Taeyong spoke to him like they've known each other for ages, and maybe that's when it started — or later, when Doyoung first heard him sing and rap in karaoke, or when Taeyong brought him bubble tea before class, even though it was much too sweet for his taste, or when Doyoung's short, much too short stay in Tokyo had suddenly come to an end, and Taeyong was hugging him goodbye and whispering that he'd see him back in Korea.</p><p>Back then, Doyoung didn't believe him. These days, he knows better than to underestimate Taeyong's loyalty.</p><p> </p><p>It changes suddenly, and without much intent from Doyoung.</p><p>He knows it pains Taeyong that he can't seem to get along with Yelim, even if she doesn't look particularly interested in his companionship, either. It makes sense: Taeyong has a lot of spare time for her, and when he's away, she busies herself with books and crayons and whatever else she can find around the flat.</p><p>That is, until Taeyong’s efforts finally bear fruit in a form of an invitation to a songwriting camp.<br/>
His excitement in the weeks leading up to it is really contagious, and Doyoung can’t stop himself from smiling half the time either, one look at Taeyong enough to warm his heart.</p><p>What this also means though is that him and Yelim are eventually left alone for several days.</p><p>He tries to go for a walk with her, and they spend some hours in semi-awkward silence. He tries to ask her about the things she’s reading and watching, but it just seems to be bothering her, so he decides to leave her be and maybe, finally, ask Taeyong what to do later when he's home.</p><p>What happens instead is that she wanders into the living room (slash kitchen) while he’s working and hovers behind his shoulder. Doyoung shifts uncomfortably under her quiet supervision, wondering what he should do. Ask her if she needs something? She’s eaten an hour ago, so she shouldn’t be hungry yet. But maybe she has a problem and doesn’t know how to voice it. What should he do? He should have never agreed to—</p><p>“What are you doing?” Yelim asks, and Doyoung almost jumps, as if he were Taeyong.</p><p>“Um… working,” he replies uncertainly.</p><p>“You just… work... on the computer?” she sounds incredulous, as if that’s the silliest thing she’s heard all day.</p><p>“Doesn’t Taeyongie work on the computer?” Doyoung mumbles, somehow offended.</p><p>“Taeyongie-oppa makes music,” she reasons. “He doesn’t just sit at the computer all day.”</p><p>Doyoung wonders how has his life come to this: justifying his job to a little girl.</p><p>“Well,” he says, stalling for time, “I make… pictures, kind of. Or make them prettier. Or put together different pictures so they… uh, match.”</p><p>Yelim’s silence makes him feel like she doesn’t consider this a worthy occupation at all.</p><p>“Come here,” Doyoung sighs, patting the cushion besides him. After a moment, Yelim joins him on a sofa.</p><p>“See, I can take this photo and select this part and, uh, cut this out, for example…” he trails off, stealing a glance at the girl. She seems to be enraptured by what he’s doing on the screen.</p><p>“And then what?”</p><p>“Oh, then— then we can take a different photo to put in the background, for example, let me just…” he pulls up his stock library and starts showing her how it works.</p><p>Which is how he ends up giving her impromptu Photoshop lessons, and how Taeyong finds them some — okay, many — hours later.</p><p>“What are you two up to?” he asks right after entering, and Doyoung looks up to see him smiling, warm.</p><p>“Well, we—”</p><p>“Dad’s been teaching me how to make pictures out of other pictures!” Yelim yells, maybe the loudest she’s ever spoken in his presence, and Doyoung gapes at her, and then, at Taeyong.</p><p>Taeyong who’s watching them with so much gentleness and warmth that Doyoung’s whole body trembles, and he’s gone, gone, gone.</p><p> </p><p>Doyoung doesn’t know how many years he’s been looking at Taeyong and seeing someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with — how long he’s been watching out for him and swallowing around “I love you”s and holding down bursts of affection that threaten to overtake him, at times.</p><p>Maybe it’s been there from the start; maybe it started when he saw how Taeyong is ready to throw out his entire life for a small girl; maybe it was somewhere in the middle. For years, he’s been promising his mother that “of course” he “will find someone, eventually”, and for a while, he believed it. For a while, it made sense, and even after Japan, after he threw the entire life lined up for him out of the window to spend some soul-searching months in Tokyo only to find Taeyong on the school’s porch, he kept nodding while he was told the importance of starting a family before he was thirty and no one wanted him anymore.</p><p>The problem is, well, other people start to notice, too.</p><p>He agrees to a dinner with his mother easily enough — after all, he reasons, he owes her that much after promising to visit more after Chuseok and then disappearing for half a year to take care of someone else’s child.</p><p>His mother’s gaze is almost soft over the cake he’s offered to buy for her. Doyoung stumbles over his words, suddenly overly conscious of the fact that he’s been rambling about Yelim for the better half of their meeting.</p><p>“Ah, sorry,” he apologises, laughing tightly. “How is—”</p><p>“Don't you feel like you're wasting your time?” she asks, and Doyoung feels his insides harden.</p><p>“Sorry?”</p><p>“You’re wasting your youth—”</p><p>“On what? On a child who needs help?” Doyoung snaps.</p><p>“She’s not your child.” His mother’s voice is cold.</p><p>Doyoung has tried to be patient, and understanding, but god, he’s tired.</p><p>“I’m just helping Taeyong, okay? She doesn't have anyone else, and it's hard for him, and I stay at home most of the time anyway, so—” he trails off, hating the fact that he’s justifying this. He doesn’t have to reason with her, it should be obvious to anyone with a heart, shouldn’t it?</p><p>His mother's gaze shifts.</p><p>"Don't you think it might be a bit uncomfortable for him as well?" she murmurs.</p><p>"What do you mean?" he asks through gritted teeth, even though he already has an inkling.</p><p>"You know, you two living together, at your age… it would be hard to bring someone home."</p><p>Doyoung is quiet.</p><p>"A girl needs a mother, you know," she says, and Doyoung swallows the bile in his throat.</p><p>In all the years he and Taeyong have known each other, they've never really talked about their respective love lives or lack thereof; to be fair, Doyoung just always quietly assumed Taeyong was… not interested. Maybe he was wrong, though he really doubts Taeyong has time to date what with taking care of Yelim, as well as his possible career in music production finally gaining traction.</p><p>Maybe it’s his fault, too.</p><p>“Well, she’s stuck with me, I guess,” he replies and calls for the bill.</p><p>“Darling, I just want what’s best for you,” his mother comments some minutes later, as if she can’t see his barely contained anger.</p><p>“My life is good for me,” Doyoung retorts, his back to her, putting his coat on. “Yelim is good for me. Taeyong is good for me. Thanks for the concern.”</p><p>*</p><p>He promises himself that he’s not gonna let this get him down. It’s not worth it, stressing over something he knows isn’t true — his mother has barely met Taeyong, she has never met Yelim, how would she know what’s best for any of them?</p><p>And yet.</p><p>He finds himself wondering, while he’s waking up next to Taeyong in the morning, or waiting for him to come home in the night, or taking Yelim to see the newest exhibition on sea creatures she’s developed a sudden interest in — is he, somehow, detrimental to their well-being? To their future? Could it be that he’s made wrong choices, staying with them?</p><p>“You’re sad,” Yelim mumbles one day, her spoon making lazy circles in the bowl.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Why are you sad?” she repeats, determined.</p><p>“I’m not falling for this,” Doyoung attempts to sound cheerful. “Eat your soup.”</p><p>“Dad,” she says, and Doyoung’s heart hurts.</p><p>Ever since the first time, she simply keeps saying it, using the word in casual conversation just like that. He thought, at first, that it might have been a slip of the tongue, that maybe she had finally started to refer to Taeyong like that — but no, he’s still “oppa”. Taeyong says that it’s because she knew him as an older brother first, that he doesn’t really mind, but Doyoung still cannot accept this.</p><p>He doesn’t correct her, but he tries not to encourage it, either, even if it echoes inside him with a kind of ache he didn’t think existed.</p><p>“Yelim-ah,” he replies and sits down across from her, reaching out to pat her hair. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”</p><p>“I’m not worrying, I’m asking,” she refutes, and Doyoung almost chuckles over how consistent her arguments are.</p><p>“Maybe just a little,” he allows with a smile. “But don’t tell Taeyongie, okay?”</p><p>She’s looking at him with a doubtful gaze.</p><p>“Just for now,” he adds. “Our secret, okay?”</p><p>Yelim sighs as if she’s doing him a huge favour.</p><p>“Fine,” she says, and then, quickly, “but no soup today. It’s a deal.”</p><p>And before Doyoung can get a word in, she slips away from the table, grinning.</p><p> </p><p>A couple of days later, Taeyong finally catches him after dinner.</p><p>Quite literally — catches Doyoung’s elbow and goes straight to the point. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Doyoung replies automatically, and then sighs, “Did Yelim tell you?”</p><p>“Tell me what?” Taeyong’s all innocence, and Doyoung’s already at his limit, and honestly, it doesn’t matter if the information came from their kid, or Taeyong is just this observant to see past Doyoung’s carefully constructed walls of easy smiles and smalltalk.</p><p>“It’s nothing,” he repeats, knowing he’s already given in. “Just something my mother said. I didn’t… didn’t think it would bother me even, and it’s nothing for you to worry about, I just…” He doesn’t want to bring it up, he doesn’t, but under Taeyong’s carefully neutral gaze, he cannot help but spill it out. “She, well, she had some… words to say about me living here, and. And taking care of Yelim.”</p><p>The implications of this are undoubtedly clear. He doesn’t have to say anything else, hopefully.</p><p>They stand there for a few moments, silent, contemplating. When Doyoung chances a glance, he sees Taeyong chewing on his lip.</p><p>Finally, he hears, "Do you want to move out?"</p><p>"No," Doyoung says, hurriedly, and then again, "no, never— I mean, unless you wanted me to, if…" he finds Taeyong's gaze, desperate and somewhat hopeful. "If— if you were to find someone," he finishes lamely, as steady as he can.</p><p>Taeyong, somehow, laughs.</p><p>"I don't need anyone," he says, just like that, as if it’s easy, trapping Doyoung with his words, his eyes, his smile. “I already have everything I need.”</p><p>Doyoung is left gaping while Taeyong goes to read a nighttime book for Yelim (who can read perfectly well by herself, but still demands they do it for her). Later, lying in bed, Taeyong curled into him, he cannot stop wondering if this "everything" might include him.</p><p>*</p><p>Taeyong seems to be going out of his way to include him whenever they do anything with Yelim — or tagging along with the two of them. Where before they used to kind of look after her whenever the other was too busy, nowadays their usual weekends comprise of “family” activities that involve all three.</p><p>Doyoung doesn't ask, but one time Taeyong just catches his gaze and says, smirking, "You’ve gotten so close, I’ve been jealous."</p><p>And, really, what can Doyoung even say to that?</p><p>So they visit more exhibitions, and parks, and cafes, and on a memorable occasion — Lotte Tower's observation deck, where it turns out that Yelim isn't afraid of heights, while Taeyong really, really is.</p><p>She laughs brightly as Taeyong clings to Doyoung's arm, and there's something so easy, so safe about all of this, that every problem just fades away in the obliterating brightness of the now.</p><p>In the evenings they take turns at making dinner, even though Doyoung insists that Taeyong shouldn't even think about it, to which Taeyong retorts that working from home is still work, and they start arguing about that until Yelim demands they order pizza.</p><p>They both kinda hate pizza, but agree easily enough.</p><p>Doyoung's favorite moments, though, are maybe the ones when he is privy to Taeyong being with Yelim — not even interacting, sometimes, just staying with her while she draws, or reads, or makes him listen to songs she likes. Taeyong looks so… relaxed like this, so attentive.</p><p>Unfortunately, it only makes Doyoung's heart ache more. It doesn't seem to matter that he's content like this, with what he has, with what Taeyong can offer him. With their little family.</p><p>Something tugs at him, makes him walk over and lower himself to the floor where Yelim is reprimanding Taeyong for messing up the perfect planning of her Lego house. Doyoung remembers how they hunted for old incomplete Lego sets among friends and acquaintances, not wishing to splurge on it if it turned out Yelim wouldn't take to it.</p><p>Well, it turns out, she likes it just fine, as evidenced by the more and more elaborate designs she comes up with every day, using the same pile of mish-mashed Legos.</p><p>"Alright, alright, I give up, you show me," Taeyong is saying with a laugh, and Doyoung thinks how easy it would be to lean in and plant a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth, how easy and perfect and right, and then he thinks — what would Yelim think? Would it be okay, to be like that in front of her? What kind of life would await her if he goes from her uncle's weirdly close friend to...</p><p>"Doyoungie?"</p><p>He gasps, returning to reality and finding both Taeyong and Yelim looking at him with something approaching concern.</p><p>"Sorry. Yes, you go on, I'll just go lie down," he murmurs, and gathers himself up from the floor, and leaves.</p><p> </p><p>He wonders, in the day, what did Taeyong even think was gonna happen when he introduced a child into their household.</p><p>He wonders, in the night, what did he think, when he accepted Yelim into their lives so easily.</p><p>It still feels so obvious — helping out a child in need, — but as much as he wants to think good of himself, it's time to face the truth: this hasn't been about Yelim, not at first. It was something Taeyong needed, and something Doyoung was ready to give. This, as well as everything else.</p><p>It's not a revelation, so there's no reason for him to feel so dazed in the following days. But he knows Taeyong notices, and is gratified when he's given space instead of a direct confrontation — he doesn't think he could bear it.</p><p>It's fine. He can go like this a little more, before he's forced to deal with it. For now, it's okay if he just occupies himself by making Yelim eat her meals.</p><p>"When I'm old, I will only eat cookies," she insists, scowling at the plate.</p><p>Doyoung sighs. "Sure, sure. For now, please could you at least try this?"</p><p>"I can <i>see</i> it's not tasty."</p><p>"You can't just—" Doyoung pinches the bridge of his nose. Nobody has ever made him feel as disappointed in his cooking abilities as a literal child. "Okay. What would you want to eat?"</p><p>"Cookies!" Yelim yells with a burst of enthusiasm. "With chocolate! And— and marshmallows! And pineapple!"</p><p>"There's no such thing as cookies with pineapple."</p><p>"There is! Taeyongie-oppa promised to make them when we open up our bakery!"</p><p>Doyoung frowns. "When you what?"</p><p>"When we! Open the bakery!" she exclaims, and the plate almost goes flying over the side of the table.</p><p>“Careful,” Doyoung admonishes, and she sticks out her tongue, and the conversation once again derails into something else.</p><p>Something about it though — the confidence in her voice, the easy way the words came out, — sticks with him long into the night when a tired Taeyong drops dead on the couch in the dim illumination of the fairy lights they put up for holidays once and never bothered to take down.</p><p>“Long day?” Doyoung asks sympathetically, sitting beside him with a hand on his back, fingers tracing out the lines of on of his shoulderblades.</p><p>Taeyong mumbles something into the cushion. Doyoung hums and hesitantly moves his hand higher, to his neck, his nape, massaging the stiff muscles gently, tangling his fingers in the slightly wet strands.</p><p>He doesn’t mean to bring it up, it just comes out sort of by itself, in a rushing whisper, “Yelim was telling me about the bakery today.”</p><p>Taeyong’s body under his hand tenses, then relaxes. He hums as a reply.</p><p>“Apparently, you have big plans,” Doyoung continues, feeling a little bit bitter, a little bit off-kilter, just because, somehow, his — their — Taeyong’s adopted daughter knows something he doesn’t.</p><p>Taeyong turns his head to the side and looks up at him, the lights reflecting off his eyes.</p><p>“I’ve always wanted a bakery,” he confesses with a short laugh. “Of course, it seemed like a stupid idea, you can’t just go and open one — or so I’ve been told many times, — and you know, I like music, I always have, it simply was a silly dream. But... it never went away.” He chuckles. “I guess I just felt like sharing it with Yelim.”</p><p>“I think you could,” Doyoung says, not really sure where his confidence is coming from. “I think… why not, really? It’s your life.”</p><p>Taeyong’s smile is wide as he turns to face Doyoung more fully, though he still looks a bit melancholy.</p><p>“I guess. Maybe. With her around, it’s like… everything seems somewhat possible.”</p><p>Doyoung nods.</p><p>“Maybe we could really open a bakery one day,” Taeyong grins at him, as if he’s sharing a secret.</p><p>“You and Yelim?”</p><p>“No,” Taeyong says. His hand finds Doyoung’s and his words hit like an arrow. “You and me. And her.”</p><p>“You and— no. That’s not…”</p><p>It hurts, to hear Taeyong speak about them as if they’re just… a family. As if it’s something normal, just them planning a future, together.</p><p>“I— I’m not… I can’t stay with you, both of you, forever, you know that, right? And it’s not that I don’t want to, I just...” he swallows the words, the feelings, the pain, down, down, down.</p><p>Taeyong sits up slowly. He doesn’t look hurt, or disappointed, though Doyoung almost expects him to be.</p><p>“But you can. You are a part of us, don’t you see? Do you know how she talks about you? How she looks at you? What she calls you— Doyoungie, it’s not… she cannot imagine a life without you.” Taeyong sighs, shakes his head. “And I can’t either.”</p><p>And it’s so much. It’s so much to take in — even if, intellectually, theoretically, Doyoung might have known all of this for a while now.</p><p>In a last desperate attempt, he tries to bargain, “But— in the future, she might—”</p><p>Taeyong’s eyes are almost shining, but Doyoung can’t even tell if maybe it’s always been like this. He’s holding Doyoung’s face like something precious, looking at him like he’s something worth keeping, whatever the cost.</p><p>“And we’ll deal with that once it happens,” he murmurs.</p><p>It’s a novel experience — being reassured by Taeyong, when he so often is the one doing the comforting. And yet, it feels so, so right.</p><p>“I guess so,” Doyoung murmurs and lets himself lean into Taeyong’s embrace, moving closer and closer until the distance between them is gone. Hugging him without reservations feels almost euphoric, hugging and knowing that Taeyong is reaching back, out to him, holding and being held, wanting and—</p><p>“How could you ever think,” Taeyong mumbles, “that I didn’t want a forever with you.”</p><p>Doyoung can’t keep a wet laugh down. “You’re— god, you’re so cheesy,” he chokes out, clutching Taeyong tighter, wishing to melt into him.</p><p>“I made you raise a child with me,” Taeyong continues, half-joking half-serious, “what did you even think that meant?”</p><p>“Shut up,” Doyoung gasps, “shut up, shut up,” and when he moves his head, Taeyong is already there for him, already leaning in and kissing him stupid, long and slow and resolute, and for once, Doyoung can believe that this is his to keep.</p><p> </p><p>Next day, when Yelim demands cookies for breakfast, Doyoung sighs, and looks at his daughter, and gets out a batch of freshly-frozen dough he made last night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello hello! this was my first finished AU, first kidfic, first secret santa in this fandom, etc etc. hope you enjoyed it!</p><p><a href="https://twitter.com/boldmoonwalk">twitter</a> | <a href="https://curiouscat.me/boldmoonwalk">cc</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>